For Country, for City, for Family
by TheDeep
Summary: Based from S2 "Charge of This Post." The morning's crimes dig up more connections to Mac's military past than he would've liked to admit, and it turns out that maybe some of those skeletons he tried so hard to lock away weren't really skeletons at all... But threats in the flesh. With the help of an old Marines friend, can Mac solve this mystery before it breaks him?
1. For Country, For City, For Family

**~Author's Notes ~**

**So… I recently got to watch, finally (after months and months of wanting to, my TV finally was nice enough to record it) watched the Season Two episode "Charge of This Post" and it got me thinking about this other idea I had… And… It got me wondering what would happen if I rewrote that episode with this kind of idea tied into it. I'll also say it isn't a full retelling of the episode. Some, or a lot, of the episode isn't touched for my lack of feeling need to touch it. It may also have something to do with the fact that I didn't want to mess around with too much, and my knowledge is a little limited on these sorts of things as is, so... There is a reason behind this not being a full retelling. ;) Although I'm sure I could go back and change that if that's what you guys think this needs?**

**~ For Country, for City, for Family ~**

I took a moment to stop in the quiet hallway of the lab, letting out a soft sigh as I purposely allowed my mind to go back to everything from this morning with Flack to now. I shook my head to clear it, feeling a little unsteady on my feet at the thought of how those events took me too far back for my comfort.

Bracing myself with an arm against the wall, I looked across the hall and out of the floor-to-ceiling glass windows as I struggled to remind myself of where I was. The past was _not_ something I enjoyed bringing up.

Regaining some of my composure and ignoring the slight shaking of my hands as I stood again and starting down the hall for my office, I was reminded of this morning with Stella after Search and Rescue found Smith and I with Flack. "Old injury," was my way of stepping around giving a detailed explanation of my entire Marines career and I knew it.

Gritting my teeth, I shook it off again, quickly pushing past the glass doors into my office and laying my cell phone on my desk. After a few moments of distantly looking over my shoulder at the city, my gaze rested on the screen of my phone. Something about that number got under my skin.

I snorted, annoyed with my general thinking of that. Crossly, I snapped my gaze back to my phone as if _it_ were my sole enemy today. _Everything_ got under my skin about this case. It took me back _too much_. But… That number… There was something more to it than just a _general_ reminder of the hell of my past.

And suddenly… It clicked. _October 23__rd__, 1983. Beirut, Lebanon._ I grimaced, a hand coming up to my neck and finding another reminder of this morning – my own injury from the explosion. I sighed and looked back at my phone. Stella walked into my office just then and for a moment I looked up at her, not quite managing to clear my troubles from my eyes before we were both distracted by my phone on my desk.

"Still trying to play?" she asked.

I sighed and nodded. "Playing, indeed," I muttered, sinking gratefully into my chair.

Knowing me as she did, I knew she wasn't going to let me off easily now. She'd caught the look in my eyes.

"You okay?"

The question nearly broke me, but I took a deep breath and nodded to my phone. "October 23rd, 1983. Bombing in Beirut, Lebanon. It was while I was serving," I said, keeping the answer as simple as I could. I doubted it'd be enough to satisfy her though, so I stood, taking my phone off my desk and walking out of my office with her.

We had work to do. "You sure you're alright, Mac?" she asked, looking over at me in concern.

I sighed softly and looked over at her. "Fine."

**ooOOoo**

"Mac."

Hawkes and Lindsay got us a lead, and it was Stella's voice that drew me from my search. Looking over my shoulder at her, I noticed her eyes weren't on me, but I quickly could calculate she'd found something she wasn't all that excited about.

I stood and walked over to join her, my gaze falling on the screen. The familiar identification on the screen nearly made me jump in surprise. "He was researching you. He's got your military records."

I look up at her, not even trying to hide my uneasiness. _This_ was _too much_ for me. I took in a deep breath, struggling with a racing mind and a thudding heart that was starting to tell me I'd be fighting a little more than 'upset' if I couldn't keep all of this in check.

I felt her steadying hand on my shoulder in an instant and I raised my gaze to find her emerald eyes filled with concern. "Mac? You okay?"

The way she said my name uncertainly told me exactly how off I had seemed to her in the last few seconds. It also sounded like she was unsure if I'd hear her if she didn't say my name first. Quite honestly, I don't think I would've.

"Just… Give me a second," I breathed, scanning my gaze rapidly over everything in front of us. She didn't let go of my arm, and I was grateful for it.

I looked back to her, feeling my gaze and confidence waver considerably. "Stella," I started, my mouth feeling dry, "I haven't been entirely honest with you."

Stella looked at me, and I noticed the confusion cloud her eyes quickly. She was ready to say something, but I put a hand on her shoulder, my gaze turning pleading, "Please, Stella… Not here… Not here."

**ooOOoo**

Stella half-walked me and I half-dragged her with me, until I was certain we were fully alone. Away from every other unit that had come with us. By now, I was breathing hard as if we'd run all the way to this silent space and I swore my hands were shaking, but I didn't dare check.

"Mac, what the hell is going on?" Stella hissed in my ear, making me jump and turn to face her as if she'd entirely startled me. She pretty much had, but I saw nothing but concern in her gaze as she accessed my condition, as if she could find something physical that would account for my strange behavior. Truth was… She had just missed the physical evidence earlier after Search and Rescue found us…

"_Everything!_" I finally said, my voice tight as if I were just choking on the words I was thinking of. I almost did. I took a deep breath, trying to regain some kind of control over myself. "_Everything_ is _wrong_, Stella… _Everything_." I looked over at her with desperation for answers in my eyes. "I've been lying… Ever since Academy… To all of you." I bit harshly at my lip. I took another deep, shuddering breath and I felt her watching me, sensing her bewilderment with my change of personalities. I honestly couldn't blame her.

"You know I served," I said finally, finding some kind of starting point. The air hitting my face from the city was something of the soothing sort, and it helped eased the agonizing anxiety I was starting to get a real good sense of right now. "And I told you about Beirut… But I didn't tell you about the three years I was MIA."

I stopped there, finally regaining control over my mind. It surprised me because this was where I usually started having trouble. I look over at her to catch her reaction, and I see shock. Maybe even sympathy for what must've looked like the struggling train-wreck of a man in front of her. And maybe that was all I was anymore… A damned train-wreck of a man with a blood-stained past. It seemed accurate enough.

I took a deep breath to steady myself, picking my words carefully. "My Unit was on Recon that day. It was late and dark, and we weren't strictly supposed to be where we were… But orders were orders." I found myself unable to continue for a moment and I looked down, chewing on my lip. "And… after that night… I never saw them again." I couldn't bring myself to state exactly what had happened. He'd looked me in the eye, one of the guys I'd trusted the most, and just shrugged as if it was the easiest thing about our entire deployment.

It was a few seconds before I felt Stella's arms around my shoulders, her chin rested on my shoulder from behind me. I knew she could feel how unstable I was, regardless of how outwardly strong I appeared to be. "Shhh," she soothed, her left hand rested on my chest as her other came up to run through my hair, "You're fine. You're fine."

The actions seemed so motherly coming from her, and I actually allowed her to do it. I raised one of my hands and took her hand away from my chest, putting a strong grip on her hand as if she were my life-line. The only way I knew I'd be able to continue was if she didn't step away from me.

"Only O' Riley knows…," I added after a moment, my voice just a touch shaky now. "He was a Medic, and I'd crossed paths with him a few times before… We were close," I said, putting her hand over that scar she'd caught earlier to tell her, not in words, how I knew him. I knew she'd understand. "Three years… O' Riley found me after I got out… I was a mess… a real damned old mess." I had to shake my head at the memory of the brilliant recognition I'd seen light up his brown eyes, even managing a partial smile at the memory of the way he'd bounced me back as much as he could.

"I stumbled back, relying on him for a shoulder to lean on. I probably looked past unrecognizable. Dehydrated and a little worn at the least." I shook my head again. "_Scared._" I said the word as if it was foreign, and I tested the syllables again, only this time I used a synonym, "_Afraid._ I didn't know who to trust. The last man I'd seen in a US uniform besides myself might as well have scarred me himself."

Stella tensed behind me at the word 'scarred' and I sensed a question behind her reaction. I nodded, not looking back at her and surprisingly rather calm at this point. I accredited it to her being there. Had she just stood and watched me, I felt like I'd be on my knees and broken down by now. This was a story I'd only ever told once… _Once._ Not even my parents knew…

I'm sure they noticed I was different. How could they have missed it? I came back much different from when I'd left. Sure, I had learned all those moral principles, but the venom of betrayal had left its mark. I was certain that when I came home when Dad was fighting for his last months that it was in my eyes. I was _certain_ they had known. But they hadn't asked. Not once.

I finally looked over my shoulder at her, nodding a bit. "I didn't just go MIA, Stell… I was POW. But I lied. To everyone except O' Riley. I _knew_ I could trust him. He did what he could to bounce me back, Stella… He really did. Even tried to talk with me a few times about those injuries he had to patch up. But I couldn't… I couldn't, Stella, I couldn't. And… I've known I had the symptoms forever, but… I just never wanted to bring it up again." I paused to shake my head again, feeling like she already knew what I was about to tell her, "I've had un-diagnosed Post-traumatic Stress Disorder from the events ever since O' Riley got me back in shape."

I was starting to sound a tad insane to myself now. Sounding like I was trying to convince her of my innocence, how hard I'd tried my best and felt like I'd failed virtually everyone in my life since that point.

And then the memories of 9/11 hit me again and I flinched backwards into Stella's hold on me. Her hand came up to rest on the left side of my neck as her other arm wrapped protectively around my shoulders.

"You're alright, you're alright," she told me. It was just a whisper in my ear, but I already felt tears threatening to slip past my guard.

"Jesus, Stella… _Flack_," I said finally, almost having to choke my friend's name out. I looked over my shoulder at her, my eyes watering as I struggled to maintain any kind of control for her. I was asking _so much_ from her. Too much. She had already had to deal with Frankie, and I hated to have to make her try to wrangle me.

"That wasn't your fault, Mac Taylor," she said firmly. Her tone almost startled me, and I had to look away in a mix of guilt, shame, and pain. "_Look at me, Marine,_" she said.

My gaze snapped attentively to her, even though I was still shaking and on the verge of a mental and physical break down. I just couldn't do this anymore. I couldn't.

She framed my face with her hands, her gaze wavering for a moment before she locked it with my own. "You listening to me, Taylor?" she asked.

I nodded almost weakly, not protesting against the authority in her voice. Right now, I would take anything I could get.

"Good," she said quietly, nodding to herself. It was looking like she didn't know what to say – that she was picking her words carefully. Finally, she looked back up at me. "Don't let this break you, Mac. I can't see you like this… Don't make me do this to you." Her desperation and pleading was enough to break my heart, and all the more ammo for me to say that I shouldn't do this to her, that I was asking too much of her by asking her to listen to my story.

A hesitant smile flashed across her face. "What do we do on this team, Mac? _Really?_"

I studied her, wondering if I should look beyond the simple answer this time. The word 'family' flashed through my mind, and it must've registered in my gaze because she nodded. "Exactly, Mac."

She smiled a little more, giving my shoulders a reassuring squeeze. "I know you're a fighter, Mac. It's who you are." Her next words were obviously dug up from deep inside, and they hit hard with me, "For Country, for City, for _Family_, Mac Taylor. _Fight_, Marine. _Fight._"

**ooOOoo**

That was hardly the end of a hard day for me, but we later wound up at the hospital. It was only natural. We needed to be with Flack. I knew I needed to, at least.

And being the Insomniac that I was, and having the hard day that I did, I had no reason to go home that night.

The team had been gathered, but they soon left, leaving Stella seated with me in the hallway as we looked across the hall, through the windows, and watched Flack from our seats. For a few moments, she was quiet.

But then she spoke. "Why now, Mac? Why me?"

I looked over at her, knowing exactly what she was talking about. Letting out a soft sigh, I sat back in my chair, shaking my head slightly after a few moments. "Because I can't do this alone."

I looked over at her, once again catching her reaction. I reached over and gently ran a hand through her curls, not taking my eyes off of hers. "I can't do this without you, Stella. I can't."

She smiled a little, and I swore it was shyly, as she gently, and almost playfully, pushed my hand away. "I couldn't do this without you either, Mac."

I believe it was a sad smile that next crossed my face as I shook my head again. "Why?" I asked. "After all I've put on you?"

Stella looked over at me, raising her shoulders a bit in a shrug. "After all I've put on you, how could I not do this without you?" she asked, shooting the question back at me. "You've always been there for me, Mac. Through thick and thin." Then she said the word that occurred to me for the seemingly millionth time that day, "Family."

I finally just smiled a flat-out smile, reaching over and taking one of her hands in my own. "Will you stay with me tonight?" I asked, almost childishly, as if I was a young boy scared of the dark asking his mother to stay with him to fend off the evil monsters that lurked within the shadows.

She smiled softly and stood, helping me to my feet. "Yeah. Now come on. I think we owe Donnie boy a visit."


	2. Brothers In Arms

**~ Author's Notes ~**

**Okay, so I was convinced that this would make a good continuation, so I decided to go off of that and write some more! Let's see if I can't clean this up and write into this more, eh? Oh, and I'm working on Chapter Eleven of "Suspect Zero" as well. I have the first portion written up, so I'm planning on getting back to it very quickly to finish it so it can be posted as well. **

**~ Chapter Two: Brothers In Arms ~**

Amazingly, just that night and the next morning was enough for me to gather my thoughts to a reasonably controllable level. I had paperwork to finish up, so I let the team back out to the field as I handed myself lab work for the day.

I even let Adam out with Stella. That should be good experience for him, regardless of how early it might be for him on anyone else's point of view. Oh well. Stella would probably need the hand with me off and Don still in the hospital. I needed the time to get back in the groove. I could just feel that I shouldn't try to push myself so willingly for a bit. Hell wasn't something I was ready to invite to coffee, after all.

Knuckles lightly knocking against the glass of my office drew my attention away from the report I had been working on. There were several I needed to write, read over, sign, and the whole other nine million yards. Not to mention emails that would always be waiting.

"Detective Taylor." My eyes landed on the young officer at the addressing tone of the man, and it took me less than five seconds for me to recognize the man with him, regardless of how long it had been.

I nodded to the officer as I stood, waving him out in a signal that I would handle things from there. As soon as I was alone with the visitor, I looked back at him with a smile, and I received a smile in return, his brown eyes lighting up like the Fourth of July at the recognition in my reaction to his presence.

"Mac Taylor," he said, shaking his head, a few of his brown locks falling momentarily across his eyes, "I thought I'd be cursing the day, but here you stand. How the hell you been, brother?"

"Jacob O' Riley, you old man!" I was grinning as I stepped around my desk, welcoming a firm handshake before he clapped an arm around my shoulders in a comradely greeting. "Here I was thinking I'd never see the day!"

O' Riley laughed, stepping out of our hug and jokingly smacking a hand along the side of my head, which I responded to by playfully cuffing a fist into his arm. "NYPD, huh?" he asked, taking in my office when we finally dropped our boyish scuffle, "Last time I saw ya, you was wearin' camo. You tellin' me you in blue fatigues now, eh?"

I nodded and we sank onto the couch side by side. "If we're both I alive, I reckon that'd be it," I said with a slight smile.

He rested a hand on my shoulder, and something about the sincerity and thought behind the action told me he was ready to tell me something and probably ask questions relating to it. "I heard about your detective, brother. I'm sorry to hear it. You two alright?"

I let out a sigh, suddenly feeling old and tired at the question. "Hanging in there," I said, nodding my head a bit. "I'll be honest with you, … it took me back, Jacob… It took me back."

He was gripping my shoulder now, as if he was trying to reassure me as he'd done all those years ago. It made me look back up at him. The concern and worry I saw in the front layers of emotions in his brown eyes were what I expected, but what I didn't expect was the underlying apprehension and… fear? Was that fear I was seeing in his eyes?

"Mac… We need to talk."

**ooOOoo**

Not knowing where else to take him for an exclusively private conversation, I drove myself and Jacob back to my apartment and I locked the door behind us before I turned to him to find him looking at me.

"We need to talk about what happened. _For real_, Mac. This is important," he said.

The seriousness of his voice really startled me, and before I could do anything, he guided me to the nearest seat and I swallowed hard as he kneeled in front of me, both hands on my shoulder as he looked me right in the eyes. "Start from the beginning, Taylor. Where was your Unit?"

"We got separated," I said, licking at my dry lips. The answer was so fresh in my mind, and it slipped past my lips with such ease that it nearly startled me. "I thought they were right with me, but…" I shook my head, "They weren't."

I looked at him, searching his gaze for something that would tell me he _wouldn't_ ask me to tell the part that was the hardest to tell. The part I avoided as much as I could. The patient look in his brown eyes made me so terribly aware of the scars I bared from the experiences that I had to look away from him.

"Jacob… I can't." My voice nearly fails me, and I still can't look him in the eyes.

Jacob put a hand around my chin and lower jaw, making me look back at him. Something about the positioning of his grip warned me that if I didn't give him something, he'd find a way to work it out of me. It was his brown eyes that always made me give in. That son of a damn bitch sure knew his convincing techniques well.

"If you can't tell me, show me, Mac."

I sighed, remembering how he'd kneeled in front of me all those years back, his hands gloved with his uniform on. His other hand had gripped my shoulder as if he feared I'd lose my balance if he let go of me. I think I would've. He'd been repeating my name as I tried to pull from him with wide, scared blue eyes in a worn uniform that had been ripped and torn over the years of me being off in what I only called "no-man's-land" nowadays.

I finally caved, "Fine. Give me two minutes tops," I said. I could hear the itch of reluctance behind my response, but the relief in his eyes and the comradely pat on my shoulder told me I probably shouldn't be regretting my agreement so much as what I'd be listening to him tell me later. Whenever he finally told me, that is.

Two minutes later, at most, and he was going over me with those trained "medic" eyes of his. Whether it was awkward having him in my bedroom looking me over as I sat, topless, staring almost dangerously at the alarm clock on my nightstand is pretty much your own opinion, and you are entitled to it, too.

"I have a weird feeling that these didn't seem so horrible when I first patched them," Jacob said after a moment of frowning in silence as he tilted my head to the side, making me change my eyes' object of interest to the wall. I ended up looking at him out of the corners of my eyes, however, as he studied over the still remaining scars.

"Oh, yeah?" I asked, as if it was something that caught my interest. "Still Hell," I added flatly, frowning.

He then plopped down beside me in a totally unorganized heap of human body parts. Head on top, legs not-so-neatly tucked underneath him, and eyes on me with his hands rested, palms down, on his thighs.

I looked over at him as I rolled my shoulders, gritting my teeth at simply the thought of the scar that still ran from one shoulder blade to the other. I did, finally, catch on that there was something troubling him, deeply, after he simply sat there watching me.

I looked over at him, suddenly feeling concern catch up to me and set itself deeply in my features. "Why did you try to find me? After all this time?"

Jacob took a deep breath, and it hit me that he seemed to be carrying something heavily on his shoulders. Feeling like it was my turn to be the comradely brother, I put both hands on his shoulders, my concerned blue gaze analyzing every last detail of his behavior down to the textbook rules. "Jacob… What happened?"

The former military medic looked me right in the eyes at last. "Mac… I got contact from McKennick… He's in New York, brother."

I stared at him almost incomprehensively. I hadn't heard that last name in well over a decade. Or however long it had been since that dreadful day when my whole world was tilted upside down and literally ate itself before spatting it all back out like a vile tasting meal or something of the sort.

"McKennick?" I asked, repeating each syllable as if I didn't know the word at all and he was teaching me. "As in _Travis_ McKennick?"

McKennick had been my right-hand man, my go-to man, my _brother in arms_. If we got in a fire-fight, I could almost always count on McKennick to be manning his M-16 not too far from myself. And then he _betrayed_ me, and all sense of blood family had been cruelly stripped right from my very soul, little by little every damned day everyone thought I'd simply went MIA.

Jacob nodded, taking a deep breath, "And he's with Richards," he said.

I finally couldn't sit still and I stood, backing away from Jacob as if he'd just hit me in the face. "_What?_" Richards… Another man I'd been close to. Before everything had happened, of course…

Jacob looked terribly hurt, as if he felt guilty. He stood with a sigh and he took only two steps towards me before he gripped my arm with a grip so strong that it scared me.

"I had to _warn you_, Mac," he said, his eyes dark as his face was so close to mine that I could feel his warm breath against my skin and I was staring straight into his darkened, worried eyes, "They ain't happy."

I felt my breath catch in my throat, now not straining against his strong grip around my wrist like a vice. Now he was _really_ starting to worry me. "Jacob… What did he tell you?" There is a sickening feeling starting to grab at my stomach at this point, and it is painfully telling me that my most trusted comrade and brother from the Service was fearing for my life… And we weren't even in a war.

"_They're after you,_ Mac," Jacob hissed under his breath, as if we were being watched or this was something teachers weren't to hear and we were high school kids hiding in the hallways as we skipped class. "You're not supposed to be _alive_ according to them."

I was shaking my head again, trying to make sense of Jacob's words. Actually, I was trying to make sense of my entire life at this point. "So… Wait…," I said, frantically trying to comprehend the seriousness of his words, "What happened back then… They didn't just hand me over-"

"You getting split up with them," Jacob began, pushing me back against the wall and pinning me there by holding both of my wrists against the solid surface as my desperate eyes scanned over him, "was all planned, Mac. You were right all along. _They're after you!_" he said, emphasizing his worry for me by letting go of my wrists only to shove me in the shoulders as he stepped back, shaking his head as if he couldn't believe it himself.

I grabbed his wrist, putting the strong grip he had put on me on him. "What about you?" Regardless of whatever threat he had just told me I had hanging over my head, this was my _brother_. My true brother. Him knowing this information compromised him, and I wasn't willing to take a risk and brush this off.

I knew I could trust him. He was the only one I could trust through everything I'd ever been through in the Marines.

Jacob looked at me and shrugged, shaking his head a bit. "Mac Taylor," he said with a sigh, "I should have known."

I managed a small smile at his tone. It was so like him… Teasing me as he worked me back into shape after it all. Relentlessly picking at me whenever he saw the chance. This man here… was my true friend from the Service. You could've been blind, deaf, or had any ailment God could've given you, and you couldn't have missed it. "You're my brother," I said stubbornly, letting go of his wrist.

He managed a small, even sad, smile as he reached a hand over, playfully whacking me on the side of the head again. "Alright, _brother_," he said, "Get yourself dressed. Seems like you and I got some work to do. Just like old times."

Now my expression matched his and we rested a hand on each other's shoulders. "Just like old times."


	3. Fess Up

**~ Author's Notes ~**

**So, I'm sorry it took me so long to get back to this story, but I had a lot to get through, both in real life, and getting back to my other stories after this recent break of mine. So, I'm back to the grind, and I'm hoping to catch up these stories!**

**~ Chapter Three: Fess Up ~**

Jacob and I headed out to meet Stella in the late afternoon hours. Catching her up in this latest development of my past would probably go best over the coffee we all planned to share.

We arrived a few minutes early, so I went ahead and ordered my usual and Stella's as Jacob ordered his own. We then settled down at a table away from the afternoon's crowds, theoretically away from ears that didn't need to listen, although I was positive a few would.

It was New York, after all. How we could hold a private conversation in public was beyond my understanding. But before I could bring up the matter to Jacob, Stella appeared, the smile on her face when she saw us waiting steering me back on track.

"You must be Jacob O' Riley." She wasted no time getting introductions done.

Jacob nodded in confirmation. "Last time I checked," he said, with that dry smile I knew about him and his sometimes strange sense of humor, "Detective Stella Bonasera, if this old man has been telling me correctly?" he added, smiling as he elbowed me and then accepting Stella's extended hand before the pair gave a quick shake of their hands.

Stella smiled and I had to smile myself, shoving his arm away from me playfully rough. "Shut up, O' Riley," I muttered, a mock warning glare getting shot his way.

The mood grew serious just then as Stella settled into the seat across from the pair of us Marines, fixing her all-knowing emerald eyes on me. "You said something was up?"

Jacob and I took deep breaths, exchanging a look. "It's about my time, Stella," I said after a moment. The darkening of her eyes told me I needed not elaborate on the vague phrase of 'my time,' so I continued, "Travis McKennick and Eric Richards were two members of my Unit back then. Jacob says they're in New York."

Jacob picked up there, "McKennick and Richards were the masterminds behind Mac going MIA back in the day," he explained. "They went rogue and turned to the other side of the fight without any of us knowing. Mac getting separated that day was no mistake, Detective. And I assure you, they are not happy to hear this POW survived that war," he said with a nod to me.

At this point, I had begun chewing on my lower lip out of nervousness, and I cast my gaze out to the civilians around us in the small café we sat in. All we knew was that McKennick and Richards were in New York. Knowing that, I wouldn't have been surprised if they'd been watching us since Jacob first came to me in my office.

Stella was staring at the pair of us as if we'd grown together to form some mutant, two-headed dragon. Her shock and worry that layered in her eyes was nothing I hadn't been expecting, but I still sighed softly as I looked back at her, and, before she could freak out too much on me, I laid a hand over hers. "Stella, I just wanted you to know. This is something that I figured would come back one day or another. But all of you are compromised. Travis and Eric are trained fighters. They know weapons and unarmed defense as well as I do, Stella. I don't want any of you caught on the receiving end of their blows. They've already made my life Hell. I can't see it happen to any of you."

Stella was shaking her head by the time I finished my obviously fear-driven statement. "Then what do you expect us to do, Mac? I won't sit back while these guys fry you for dinner!"

Jacob stepped in before I could try to counter her words, "Detective, I don't think we could ever ask that of you," he pointed out. "But this is our problem. The less people involved in this, the better. I'm sure you understand as well as we do that there's been enough lives lost," he said.

Stella looked over at him, sitting back and considering his words. After a moment, Jacob and I both felt like she wouldn't try to fight us just yet on what we were planning, so we sat back ourselves. Between the two of us, I couldn't tell you how much bloodshed we'd seen.

It was certainly plenty enough in our careers as Marines. There are some stories I could tell, but… I think I'll save those for myself and the walls of a silent room. Some of them are stories even I get sick to the stomach thinking about.

"So, what are you two planning to do?" Stella finally asked. It was the question even I wasn't all too happy to answer.

"It's their problem with me. I plan to let them settle that with me," I said, chewing at my lip slightly. "I know what you're going to say about that, Stella. I know what risk it is, but I think I've seen enough of them to know how to handle them. And Jacob's probably in this, too. McKennick contacted him, so I can only assume they're after him for helping me when I got back."

Jacob nodded in agreement. "I can't speak on what they'll do, but I know they don't like how Mac and I got out of country back then alive and came home here to American soil. They've had years to work this one out, Detective. Odds are that they'll be hard to catch, even for us two."

Stella listened without protest as we played out the odds before us, Jacob and I staring at the table and thinking over scenarios in our heads. I felt way too uncomfortable with how clearly I could play out some of the more negative ones.

Stella finally looked over at me after a few moments, and I looked back up at her. "Mac… What's this all mean?" she asked, her voice almost hesitant.

For a moment, I tried to think over all my possible answers. It was only seconds before Jacob gave me an understanding pat on the shoulder and stood, leaving me alone to spell out my situation to Stella. For his infinite understanding of my troubled mind, I will be eternally grateful.

"Stella," I began, still trying to find words to soothe her worries I could read clearly from her eyes as I laid both hands over hers, "I… really don't know. But I do need you to do something for me, okay? Try not to worry," I told her, offering her a small smile as I pushed a few stray curls back from her face so I could see right into her eyes. "This is just something that I guess I knew, deep down, would happen one day. God willing… Everything'll work out. But I can't risk them hurting you, or anyone else on the team. I know what kind of stuff they'll try, first-hand, Stell." I shook my head a bit. "I wouldn't wish what I went through back then on my worst enemies, Stella, but… Knowing McKennick and knowing Richards, they _will_ try to put me through what I've already gone through, and worse."

It was here that I paused to sit back and lick at my dry lips. "I just need you to trust me, Stella… I can't involve any more people than there already is involved. Everyone that knows is in danger, Stella, and that includes you." I finally looked back at her, my serious gaze locking with hers, and I was certain that I didn't have to say any more than what I said with that gaze, but I continued anyways, "Don't tell the rest of the team. Please, Stella. This is something Jacob and I… We have to do this alone."


	4. I Spy

**~ Author's Notes ~**

**Alright, I took some time to pour some good research into where I want to go, and I think I'm pretty dang satisfied with foreshadowed plans here. (You guys… Always inspiring me to be evil, eh? XD Of course you are…) So, when we do get there, to where afore-mentioned evil plots are set into action, I do hope you enjoy them! Meanwhile… Let us see what we can unveil about our dear friends' enemies, eh?**

**~ Chapter Four: I Spy ~**

Jacob and I then took a walk, a much needed one, to clear our heads. We had yet to come to terms with the fate we had set for ourselves.

"Just like old times, huh?" I asked. We picked up a light jog around the corner of the street; whether it was out of nervousness or a need to blow off our pent-up energy… Well, even I can't say for certain.

Jacob nodded, setting the pace that I kept up with rather easily. Obviously I hadn't been the only one getting workouts like this one we had started, even if we didn't know why. "You can say that again. Why is it that trouble always follows you, McKenna?"

I managed a smile, shaking my head a little and picking up the pace to give him a little more challenge, hoping that it would take both our minds off our predicted future. "McKenna?" I asked him, "Don't make me feel old, damn it."

He laughed, lightly cuffing his fist in to my upper left arm as he stayed running beside me. "You? Old? Hell… When did this happen? You're in your primes now, boy!"

Now I was grinning, shaking my head even more. "Oh, shut your trap, you old timer," I teased him. He was really the same age as I was, but I swore we bickered like old vets that we weren't. Not yet, at least. I still had a good few years before I figured I'd let somebody kick my ass to the sidelines. Seeing as that I had no intention of going too willingly. And, apparently, everyone else already saw that I'd be a challenge to settle down.

"Who are we to be talkin' like this?" Jacob mused after a few moments of companionable silence as we wove our way through the crowds on the sidewalks, not heading anywhere in particular. "Seriously… What are we doing?"

I had to smirk. "You read my mind."

"Ah…," He seemed rather happy with himself on this account, "I've found I'm quite good at that."

_My turn,_ I thought, cuffing him a little rougher in the arm, more towards his shoulder. "No shit," I muttered as he glared at me, and I allowed myself a boyish smile in response, "You're one of the few!"

We'd ran for a little now, and, both of us having long surpassed our times crisscrossing rugged terrain for hours on end with rifles and medical supplies at the ready, me and him, respectively, had to slow to a walk, catching our breath. Even I needed the break, even though I tried to make it a habit for a good, long run before the day started. I didn't need perps outrunning me on a daily basis, after all.

We stopped at the next corner, leaning against the wall of the building there and casting our gazes to the passer-by citizens of the city.

For a good stretch, it was just us, the sounds of the city, and our decent enough breathing. Thank God we weren't that out of shape. I think I would've been rather hard on myself if I hadn't been able to keep up with him. And knowing him like I do, he would've been equally as hard on me.

As good as brothers by blood, and not just by time. But I learned that time and trust was as good a bond, if not a better bond, than blood at the best of times, and it could be equally, if not more so, painful when broken.

I knew that lesson way too damn well than I would've liked to.

"So… Where are these bastards?" I finally asked him as we stood, resuming our patrol of the city.

Jacob shrugged, still looking around casually. "Not sure," he said, "They could be anywhere at this point. All Travis told me was that he was in New York and that he had personal business to finish up with a certain former Lieutenant."

I visibly grimaced. "Yeah, well, he can go to Hell, too," I grunted. I had long since quit giving a damn about him. He left me to the lions, willingly, if I may add, and that had been damn bloody hard enough on me.

He sighed beside me, shaking his head. "Mac… Really," he said after a moment, "What the hell are we going to do? It's not like we _don't_ know what they're capable of."

"I know, I know…," I groaned, rubbing at my eyes like I was trying to get rid of the last remnants of sleep in an early morning call-out. "I'm honest to God not sure what the hell they'll try to do first or… What they'll do and what they won't do at all. But I know what kind of things they'll try as sure as I know the sun will still rise tomorrow," I said, frowning.

Jacob nodded, shaking his head himself, once again causing a few locks of his hair to fall across his eyes momentarily. We were back near my Avalanche again, and we stopped one more time before our planned trip back to my place, scanning our eyes over the crowds.

In a flash, I let the sounds of the city wash over me, picking up on the closest cell phone conversations and listening to banter between passer-by as I watched the world roll past us.

It was a good handful of minutes before I noticed Jacob's gaze change. It went from passive to more so apprehensive, and I followed his line of sight as he put a hand on my shoulder.

And for the first time in many years I hadn't kept count of, I found myself locking eyes with Travis McKennith.

I went as rigid as Jacob beside me, and it was literally only the busy street in front of us that separated us from the men that we both viewed as enemies. Jacob's hand on my shoulder quickly became good support, because I could remember clear as day the last time I stared like this…

_ooOOoo_

_I looked up abruptly from my scanning of the land laid around me and at my feet. It was that quick that I was aware that I'd lost contact with the Unit. And I didn't even know how._

_After all that training, and I lost my Unit? I crossly shook my head, cursing myself already. How the hell did a man just lose his comrades? Especially when he was the one that was supposedly in charge of his comrades?_

"_Really, Taylor… You're getting your ass kicked for this one," I breathed, almost hearing the wind blur my own words into dead silence._

_I was armed with plenty of firepower and knowledge to at least keep me alive to find them, but it was my own orders to stay off any communications unless absolutely essential to survival. Because, in this land, it was likely that communicating when you didn't have to would get you killed a lot quicker than it would help you._

_They couldn't have gotten far; I was almost dead certain. But a man couldn't be too careful. I crouched for a moment, checking I had the gun in my hands loaded and ready for immediate use should I get myself into such an occasion._

_I heard a noise, one that seemed out of place, and my eyes instantly snapped up, my hands pausing in the motion of checking the chamber for a round to use._

_Another sound, and I was certain this time that it belonged to my own kind – humans, and specifically soldiers, that is. But whether they were hostile or friendly…_

_We were in a _war._ Behind enemy lines, and I was a lone soldier. God damn it… If any of the officers that had trained me saw me now… Hell, that'd be a story to tell…_

_My breathing had since fallen to silence, and I quietly finished the loading of my gun as I waited for whatever was out there to show itself, and either prove I was on friendly turf, in a sense, or if I was going to be in a living hell._

_The sound of a round going into the chamber of a pistol near my ear gave me the answer, and I froze in place, not moving an inch._

_It wasn't the barrel that was soon pressed against my neck that shocked me, nor was it the further sounds of movement around me…_

_It was more so what those sounds brought. Because out of the darkness… I made out a very familiar US Marines uniform._

"_Travis?" I asked, raising my hands slowly off my weapon at the increased pressure of the barrel against the back of my neck. Some man behind me grabbed my rifle to take it off my hands, but my disbelieving eyes were still fixed on my comrade…_

_And he simply shrugged as I felt my hands pulled behind my back. "I'm sorry, Mac… But… Sometimes… the cards do change hands when you least expect it."_

_ooOOoo_

"Mac? Mac? Mac! Hey!"

And just like that, I was firmly jerked back to the present. In a flash, my gaze snapped from the other side of the street back to Jacob beside me, who had a grip on my shoulder like he feared he was losing me, and I quickly realized how I was a little too worked up for just standing where I was.

"You alright?"

It took me a little to catch my breath again, and I looked across the street once more, trying to see if we were still being watched, which, thankfully… or… more dangerously, we weren't. "Fine… Just…" I couldn't finish with words, so I instead sighed and shook my head. "Just… back in the day… Back in the day," I murmured finally, rubbing at my wrists self-consciously.

I also remembered the feeling of being restrained from back then all too well.

When I looked back at him, he still was clearly worried about my answer, obviously not trusting that I was telling him the truth about being 'fine.'

I sighed quietly. "Let's just get out of here… I've had enough excitement for one day."

Although Jacob didn't protest, nor did he say anything about the memories I had clearly relived in that brief locking of eyes on the street, I could see he remembered those days all too well himself. And it troubled both of us beyond words.

_This… This is going to a long, bloody war…_ I couldn't help but think that it would as I got in the Avalanche with him, and we quickly started back for my apartment.


End file.
